


The Spell of a Thousand Tongues

by The_New_Kid



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28600104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_New_Kid/pseuds/The_New_Kid
Summary: Merlin takes pity on a slave boy visiting Camelot with his cruel Master and vows to help him.I took bit of artistic license with historical details.  For instance, gunpowder was not introduced until at least 400 years after King Arthur, but since it has already been used in an episode in Season 5, I figured it would be alright. It is only a story, after all.
Relationships: Gwaine (Merlin)/Original Female Character(s), Gwen & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

As he watched the last rays of the setting sun glowing against the darkening sky, Arthur leaned wearily on the edge of the balcony overlooking the courtyard. His crown felt unbearably heavy today, and he wished more than anything that his father and mentor was there to advise him. But King Uther was lying in his sickbed, as if bewitched, the life draining out of him not from any mortal wound, but from the unhealable hole in his heart. Morgana. The light of his life had taken his heart and squeezed it until it burst, leaving nothing behind but a broken carcass with no will to live.

And there he lay. Not even Arthur himself could pull him out of his trance. 

But Arthur took no offence from this. Had it been he that betrayed his father instead of his half-sister, Uther would have shown anger, or sought revenge, but this was a betrayal the king never saw coming, and thusly had no defence prepared. 

Torn between his grief and concern for his father and his duties, the interment ruler took a deep breath, ending the moment he had allowed himself for self-pity and reflection, and stood tall, ready to be a shining example for his people. 

The courtyard stirred. His guest had arrived. The gates swung open and amidst the rhythmical sound of multiple hooves, a single rider made his grand entrance on a handsome black steed, followed by four caravans covered in rich tapestries, with two armed guards on each end, crossbows at the ready. It was the merchant Holun, bearing silks and spices, and other rare treasures from the Far East. 

Arthur turned to Merlin, who had appeared by his side, prompted by the commotion below. “Is everything ready?” He inquired of his manservant. Merlin had been tasked with the unenviable duty of overseeing the festivities of the evening. Holun was to be received like a king, if they were to get the best prices on his wares. All the kingdoms were vying for his merchandise, especially the legendary black powder rumoured to be the weapon to surpass all weapons.

Merlin nodded, and disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared. ‘Hopefully to finalize the preparations,’ Arthur thought, as he dutifully made his way down the wide stone steps to greet his honoured guest. 

Holun raised his hand to signify for the caravans to halt in the middle of the courtyard. A teenage boy scrambled out from behind one of the wagons with a huge black dog as he dismounted from his horse to grab the reigns and take his riding crop. He then said something into the boy’s ear and he raced off to unload a large trunk from one of the wagons, almost too big for him to manage, setting it carefully on the ground. 

The burly Mongol made his way over to Arthur, who had taken his place in front of the castle, Merlin again by his side, and nodded his respect. “Prince Arthur, I assume. I had hoped to do business with your father.”

“Unfortunately he is not available.” Was all Arthur was wiling to divulge. “Rest assured I will give you all the consideration you need.”

Holun paused for a moment, contemplating his options. “Very well,” he conceded.

“You must be hungry and tired from your journey,” Arthur offered, “the porters will place your trunk in your quarters, and my servant will show your boy where to maintain your horses while we have some refreshments.” He nodded to Merlin, who immediately beckoned to the lad to follow him into the stables. 

“Come this way.” Merlin told him gently. The boy looked over at his Master, unsure, but Holun had already begun to mount the stairs with his dog, eager to imbibe.

Once they arrived at the stables, Merlin, anxious to get back to his duties, quickly showed the boy where to put away the tack and gear. “Your Master is in the main dining room, if you need to join him,” he stated hurriedly, “on the second floor of the castle, to the right.” He pointed vaguely with his arm. “Alright?”

The lad hesitated for a moment, and nodded. “Da.” Was all he said, and began to undo the straps to remove the horse’s saddle.

Merlin rushed off, confidant that he had done his job. There was so many things to do, food to oversee, wine to ensure, entertainers to mollify, and he had spent too much time away already.  
__________________________________________

The banquet was going well. They had almost finished the main meal when the lad appeared, looking flushed and breathing heavily as he took his place beside his Master. Holun said some words to him that they couldn’t understand, and cuffed the boy on the back of the head. 

Alarmed, Arthur crooked his finger to Merlin. “Did... you tell him where we were?” He inquired. 

“Yes... but I was in such a rush,” Merlin shook his head regretfully, “I didn’t entertain the possibility that he may not understand English.” They had so few visitors from the faraway.

Arthur shot him the disgruntled look he always gave, and turned back to Holun, who angrily pushed his platter over to the side for the lad to take away. “I trust you enjoyed your meal?” He asked, feigning congeniality. Showing his distaste for the man was not an option.

“Yes, but it would have been better, had this imbecile...” the platter crashed to the ground as he gestured toward his servant, knocking it out of his hands. In one swift move, he grabbed the boy’s arm and twisted it. 

“Togo! Togo!” The boy cried out as he knelt down beside his Master trying to relieve the painful iron grip. With a growl, Holun let go and kicked the hapless teenager as he fell to the ground, grasping his injured shoulder. 

“Here, here,” Sir Gwaine jumped up and strode over to the fallen boy, “that is no way to treat a servant.”

“The boy is not a SERVANT,” Holun said with contempt, “he is a SLAVE, and not worthy of your concern.” Merlin quickly picked up the platter to help the lad, who was clearly favouring his left arm, scoop the remnants of the meal back onto it. 

A quick shake of Arthur’s head, and Sir Gwaine backed off. “Regardless, we don’t treat fellow human beings like that here.” He grumbled as he reluctantly returned to his seat. 

Feeling badly about his oversight, Merlin watched with pity as the lad scuttled into the kitchen, the platter balanced carefully under his right arm, and followed him. He found the teenager underneath a table, gnawing at the gristle on a leftover pork leg. Merlin sat down, under the table, facing him. The boy watched him warily, but kept kept eating, picking up a handful of the potato that had been scooped off the ground, and shovelling it into his mouth, spitting out bits of grit, more concerned about quelling the hunger burning in his belly than trying to figure out what the stranger wanted from him. 

Merlin pointed to himself. “Mer-Lin.” He said slowly. 

“Mer-Lin,” he repeated, with his mouth full. Merlin pointed at the boy, raising his eyebrows. A flash of understanding passed across his face. He swallowed the remnants of food in his mouth and said, quietly, “Raag.”

Merlin smiled as he produced an apple. “Raag.” He said as he handed it to him. Raag glanced toward the banquet room nervously before he took it from his hand. “Da.” He said gratefully, as he bit into the treat. Closing his eyes with contentment as the sweet juice filled his mouth, the boy lost himself in the moment. He was cruelly brought back to reality when he heard his Master’s roar, and in a heartbeat stuffed the apple in his pocket, agilely leaping out from under the table, racing back into the dining room.  
___________________________________________________

Gaius entered his quarters. It was late, and his body was aching for his warm, soft bed. ‘My, that Holun can talk. About himself.’ He thought. ‘Telling endless yarns about his travels. And not in an entertaining way.’ The light was still on. “Merlin, what are you doing?” He asked, slightly annoyed that his desire for sleep was to be delayed. 

Merlin looked up from the spell book. “I’m looking for an incantation for language.” He said, matter-of-factly. 

“An incantation for language?” Gaius inquired, only half-interested, as he looked longingly at his bed on the other side of the room. “Why do you need an ‘incantation for language’?”

“The boy that came with Holun.” Merlin explained, “I want to be able to talk to him, and I think I found a spell that will allow him to understand what I am saying, and he for me.” He showed Gaius a page in the middle of the book, “the Spell of a Thousand Tongues.” 

“Won’t it be suspicious if the lad starts to spout out a different language from his Master?”

“That’s the beauty of it.” Merlin insisted. “To us, he will be speaking English, but in reality he will be speaking in his own language, which of course, is what his Master will hear.” He elaborated, “It doesn’t seem like he speaks unless he is spoken to, so that will keep his conversations to a minimum.” He gave the book one more look, memorizing the spell before closing it. “He seems to only say ‘Da’, which depending on the intonation, could either mean ‘thank you’ or ‘yes’.” Showing Gaius the pot of ointment he had prepared earlier, he continued. “I want him to see that I have medicine that will help relieve the pain in his shoulder.” His voice became quieter as he reflected, “Besides, I’m certain it’s dislocated, so I’ll have to reset it, which, if he doesn’t understand what I’m doing, could seem like an attack.”

“Are you sure of this?”

“Very sure. I watched him all night. He doesn’t seem to be able move it at all.”

“Alright, then,” Gaius sighed, “but be careful.”

“Am I not always?” Merlin grinned as he left the room.  
________________________________________________________________

Holun had asked Merlin earlier that evening for directions to the nearest tavern, so the servant knew the Master would be away from his room all night. He was about to knock on the door, when he was distracted by soft cries from within. Abandoning the formality of knocking, he let himself in. “Raag?” He said as the beam from the lamp he held in his hand shot across the room, lighting the way to the bed. 

A low, menacing growl answered him. “Kendo.” A soft voice whispered, sharply. The growl stopped, and with the help of the lantern, Merlin saw a lump move on the wooden floor at the foot of the bed, and the unmistakeable sound of a chain.

Merlin waved his hand, “Astro Endis Moro Erebus.” He chanted.

“I don’t understand you.” The soft voice said from the shadows. 

“I’m sorry,” Merlin smiled to himself, pleased that his spell had worked. “I just wanted to know if you were alright.”

Raag raised his head from his dog/pillow and regarded him with wonder, “You speak Mongol!” He exclaimed.

Merlin cautiously approached the teenager and crouched down slowly, acutely aware that Kendo, even though he had stopped growling, was watching his every move. “Ummm, yes, I learnt from a merchant that passed through Camelot two years ago.” Was the reply. He heard the sound of the chain again, as Raag sat up from the floor and Merlin noticed with surprise that the chain was not on the dog, but around the boy’s ankle.

The lad scowled for a moment. As far as he knew, Holun was the first merchant to venture this far way from their homeland, but clearly he was wrong, being that this man was standing in front of him, speaking his language with fluency. 

“How are you feeling?” Merlin hurriedly asked before the lad could study his lie too thoroughly. 

Raag was still clutching his left shoulder, and as he straightened up, Merlin observed with some consternation that the boy and the huge dog were about the same height.

“I hurt.” He replied honestly as he wiped a tear away with the palm of his good hand. 

“Can you move your arm?” Merlin inquired. 

“A little.” The boy pulled at his elbow and moved the arm that hung limply at his side. “See?”

Merlin heaved a heavy sigh. There was no way to tell him gently. “Your arm is dislocated.” He began. “I have to snap it back in place, and this will hurt. A lot.” He eyed the dog, who watched him guardedly, his ears folded back, ready to protect his best friend at all cost. “But then you’ll feel better. I promise.”

Raag wasn’t convinced. “How do you know?”

“Because I am a healer.” He reached into his pocket. “Look, this is a salve I made that will relieve some of the pain you’re feeling right now.” He opened the small jar and showed it to him. “Rub this on your shoulder.” He advised. 

Raag winced as he took the ointment and did as he was told. A look of relief crossed his face as he asked, “What was that?”

“Herbs and primrose, a mixture that numbs the pain.” He offered, “Shall I tend to your arm, now?” 

The boy gave a stuttered breath and nodded bravely. 

“The dog...”

“Kendo, stay.” He ordered the dog as he moved closer to Merlin. 

He could see the fear in Raag’s face as he braced himself against his shoulder and grabbed his wrist. He felt incredibly bad about what he was about to do, but it was for the boy’s good, he told himself. Somehow this was far worse than readjusting a knight’s arm after his being unhorsed during a tournament, something that he had to administer with alarming regularity. 

The lad’s scream resonated through the room when he felt his shoulder pushed back against the bed and his arm pulled forward simultaneously as his shoulder locked back into place. 

The dog leapt up and attacked. 

Merlin’s eyes glowed. “Arretis!” He commanded, and the dog crouched back down. Raag heard none of this. Consumed with pain, the boy had passed out, cradled in Merlin’s arms. 

Merlin stayed with Ragg until he regained consciousness, carefully wrapping his arm with a scarf, and laying him down again to rest. Kendo seemed to understand, and stretched out, becoming once again Raag’s dog/pillow. The boy murmured his thanks and with a sigh, fell asleep immediately, exhausted from the pain amidst all the days’ events.


	2. REVELATION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes things are not as they seem.

Raag almost danced through his chores the next morning. Albeit his shoulder was still tender, it was nothing compared to the pain he had endured the night before. To his delight, it seemed as if everyone had learned how to speak Mongol from the visiting merchant that came before them. And he had a new friend. A healer. This Camelot was indeed a wonderful place. 

The teenager sat with Merlin and watched the maids in the kitchen with interest. Perhaps with more interest than he should have. They were all beautiful, with their long necks and lithe bodies. Raag sat on the bench against the wall trying to stay out of their way, admiring them. “Listen to them laugh,” he said in wonderment as he leaned closer resting his head on his arms across the table, “it sounds like the tinkling of bells.” 

“Unless they’re laughing at you.” Merlin quipped. “Then it sounds like feeding seagulls.” He regarded the young lad. “You seem to be taking quite an interest, it’s almost like you’ve never seen a girl before.”

“I grew up with a caravan full of men,” Raag revealed sitting back up and striking a more ‘what do I care about girls’ pose, “who revelled in swapping stories of battles they had won, and women they had taken, willingly or otherwise. And then when they tired of that, they would take off their shirts to compare their battle scars,” he laughed, whole-heartedly, “and end up passed out half naked, dangerously close to the dying campfire.”

“The mulled wine is ready.” Willow, the cook stated as she slammed two jugs unceremoniously onto the table. Merlin quickly wiped the spill, and placed them on a large platter, deftly making an arrangement with different coloured grapes and fruits, to present in the dining room. 

“I’ll take these,” he told the boy, “You wait for the meats, and bring them along as soon as they’re ready.”

Raag nodded and turned back to watch Willow, who was anything but, berate her assistant trying to cut vegetables for the garnish. He sighed, letting his thoughts drift.

The only woman he could remember was his mother... Raag pushed her memory from his mind as he always did. Ever since Holun had snatched him from the woods where he was picking flowers for her birthday, and told him that she no longer wanted him any more. That his parents had sold him to the Mongol to serve him, to shine his boots and take care of his animals. ‘Good riddance’, they told him as they pocketed the money, he would relate with a smirk. Eight-year old Raag didn’t blame her, but his broken heart couldn’t stop him from calling out for her in the middle of the night, only to be beaten and kicked for disturbing the Master’s sleep. Eventually, the memory of her faded, as he was forced to accept his new life. 

So he found solace in the animals. They were his family, now. Kendo was his big brother, there to protect him from all the others in the camp. Except Holun. He was his master’s dog, after all. But woe be to any of the others should they lay a hand on him, or utter an angry word towards the boy, or trip him for fun as he scurried about fulfilling his Master’s needs. Kendo would let Raag hug him tightly while he was chained at the foot of the bed at night until he could barely breathe, but the dog never let out a whimper, enduring the embrace until the boy fell asleep, and his grip loosened. And only then would the dog sleep. 

Holun had taken the dog with him that morning as he met with the Prince to negotiate his wares. He allowed the boy his friendship with the dog if it kept the child quiet at night, but during the day, the large, intimidating animal was part of his identity. It extended his fearsome character, and reinforced his power. Many a bargaining opponent had backed down when the dog lurched forward, sensing an unwelcome challenge to his Master. 

As Raag waited in the kitchen, he was entertained by the gossip the women were engaged in. They had forgotten the boy was there, and freely dispensed their opinion of everyone in the castle, especially one named Gwen, whom some viewed as a harlot, whilst others revered as a saint. They gushed over the Knights of the Round Table, evaluating all their attributes, romanticizing their suitability as husbands, and most surprisingly to Raag, imagining their skill as lovers. 

The talk that day was focused on the celebration in the courtyard that afternoon. It was the feast of the harvest, and a parade was scheduled, complete with trumpets and dancers. Raag looked up as a girl, a self-proclaimed dancer, not much older than he, began to sway and turn, somewhat gracefully, like a biblical seductress in front of him. She smiled as she picked up the platter, holding it high above her head, and beckoned to him. 

“Stop teasing the boy, Mairi.” One of the cooks chastised, waiving a spatula at them. “He can’t understand you, anyways.”

Mairi handed the platter to a confused Raag, who wondered why he wouldn’t understand them, they were speaking Mongol, after all... “I’m sure the boy can understand this...” she cooed, as she brazenly loosened the strings on the front of her blouse revealing a little more than she should. Raag could hear the tinkling of her laughter chasing him as he ran out of the kitchen. He put the strange actions of the girl out of his mind, focusing instead on delivering his master’s lunch to him before his hunger made him even more ornery.  
______________________________________________

When the afternoon meal had concluded, Raag dutifully followed his Master as he left the dining hall. “Master...” he said, barely above a whisper, almost afraid he would hear him. 

Holun was in an uncharacteristically good mood. The negotiations were going fairly well, and he had eaten a particularly delicious lunch, so he was willing to let the ‘not to speak unless spoken to’ rule slide just this once. “What is it, boy?” He inquired gruffly.

“I was wondering...” Raag started, feebly.

“Speak up, boy.” Holun was beginning to lose patience.

“I was wondering if you will allow me to go for a walk in the courtyard today.” Raag said quickly, before he lost all his nerve. “I’ve finished all my work, and I heard that there is going to be a parade...” He almost bumped into his Master as he stopped abruptly to regard him.

“So you finished all your tasks, then?” 

Raag looked up at the hulking man his eyes wide, and nodded. His heart caught in his throat. 

“All of them?” 

Raag nodded again, hoping against all hope. Perhaps this time...

“Then, clearly I have not given you enough work to do.” Holun smirked as he turned back around and continued on his way. “Go shovel out the horses’ stalls boy, I’m going to take a nap before supper time.” He threw over his shoulder to the disappointed lad. 

Kendo wafted between the boy and his Master unsure of who to follow, until Holun called his name. Raag sighed as he watched his best friend pad down the hallway and away from him. 

Holding back the tears stinging his eyes, the teenager ran as fast as he could to the stables, where Altani stood, waiting. If Kendo was his brother, Altani was his sister. The black mare shook her head with recognition as Raag came up to her and stroked her nose. He always felt better whenever he petted her, as if the horse had some sort of magical healing power. Raag reached into his pocket, and brought out the apple Merlin had given him the night before, taking one final bite of the sweet fruit before feeding the rest to her. The horse chewed the apple loudly, nodding in appreciation. 

“Do you know what I saw today?” He asked the animal as he stroked her. “The King had a robe, and it was soft...” he elaborated, feeling a need to explain the details to the horse, “I brushed up against it on purpose when I stood beside him, waiting on our Master. I know I shouldn’t have, but it was made of a material I’ve never seen before.” He petted her nose again. “It was so soft, like you, Altani!” The boy laughed, “Maybe it was made of horse noses!” Altani stomped her foot, as if in protest. “No, I’m sure it wasn’t made of horse noses. Don’t worry,” He whispered in her ear, “and even if it was, I wouldn’t let them do that to you.”

Raag looked up as the sound of drums drifted in from the courtyard, and trumpets began to sound. He hesitated for a moment, torn, and moved over to the barn door, wondering if he would be able to see anything from there. Altani whinnied, but even her consternation couldn’t stop him. “I’ll only be a few minutes.” He assured the horse. Mesmerized, he left the stable and walked quickly down the street toward the music. 

The courtyard was easy to find. Raag found himself being carried along by the sea of people heading toward the festivities. Stopping just on the outskirts, he watched, fascinated, as trumpeters took their place on a podium and dancers performed, trailing ribbons behind them that floated in the air. He took a deep breath. Something smelled delicious. Like sweet... he wasn’t sure what. Soon, the lamps around the square began to grow brighter, and he realized it was because it had begun to get dark. Time to go. Dodging the people heading in the opposite direction carrying colourful lights he made his way back to the stables. ‘Strange,’ he thought to himself, ‘I don’t remember lighting a lantern before I left.’ 

As he reached the doors, a familiar bark greeted him, and the metallic taste of fear sprang into his mouth when Holun stepped out from the shadow. In his hand he held the riding crop.  
__________________________________________________________________

Merlin hadn’t seen his new friend all evening. Not even when they served supper. One of the pages from the castle had to serve Raag’s Master. Concerned, Merlin made his way to their quarters after Holun left for the tavern. He didn’t have a chance to raise his arm to knock this time. The sound of crying coming from the room was unmistakeable. Merlin stole into the room. There was a quiet growl, but in the darkness, he could see Kendo’s tail wagging slightly. 

Merlin made his way to Raag, who struggled to sit up. Before he could speak, Raag howled in pain as Merlin inadvertently gripped his back, trying to be helpful. Looking down, he saw that Raag’s vest had been removed, and his billowing shirt was made even more so by a large rip spreading down the back. Under the shirt were several raw wounds. Ravaged with so much pain, Raag couldn’t speak. Merlin opened the jar he brought and lathered the ointment onto the lad’s back. “This might hurt, it wasn’t made for open wounds.” He warned.

Raag felt an overwhelming warmth cover his back. The medicine stung a bit, but to his relief, it dulled the sharp pain that had possessed him all evening. Merlin, not wanting to tear the shirt any more than it was, began to pull it over the boy’s head. “NO!” Raag cried out, too late.

Merlin stopped tugging at the shirt midway, and gasped. He immediately turned about and stared into space, speechless. “You’re a GIRL!” He was finally able to whisper.

Raag clutched the shirt about her. “Please don’t tell my Master.” She begged. “Please, he can’t find out, please!”

“He doesn’t know?”

“I was only eight years old when he bought me from my parents.” Sobbing, she explained, “He’s always thought of me as a boy. If I am to survive, you can’t let him know,” she implored, fearfully, “I’ve seen what he does to women.” Lowering her voice, she whispered, “what they all do to women.”

The shock over, Merlin was finally able to face her, “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” He assured her, “But it will only be a matter of time before he notices.”

“I know. I grow every day.” Kendo whined and nudged her. “I try to keep my head down and not cause trouble.” Hugging the dog gave Raag strength as she continued resolutely, “What happened today was a mistake. I just wanted to see the parade... “a tear fell as the joy of the festival was replaced by the memory of inescapable pain. “It won’t happen again.”

“You can’t be sure of that.” 

Resigning herself to her fate, she bemoaned, “What else can I do?”

“I don’t know,” Merlin admitted. His heart went out to her. He had wanted to help her when he thought Raag was a boy, but now that he knew the truth... it was different now. More dire. He couldn’t leave a defenceless girl in the clutches of such a cruel Master. “I’ll think of something.” He promised her, even though he had no plan.  
__________________________________________________________

Merlin spent the next morning wondering.  
Wondering what would happen if the girl was found out.  
Wondering if he should tell Arthur.  
Wondering what, if anything Arthur could do if he did tell him.  
Wondering what would happen if he stole her into the night.  
Wondering what the hell HE would do with her. 

Arthur couldn’t help but notice his manservant was otherwise preoccupied. “Merlin.” He noted with disdain, “my armour goes OVER my clothes.”

Merlin realized he was holding out Arthur’s breastplate while the Prince was still shirtless. “Oh, right, sorry.” Was all he could say, as he put the armour down and scrambled to find clothing. 

Arthur sighed impatiently. “If I docked you for every stupid mistake you made, you would owe ME for the privilege of working here.”

“Speaking of which, I thought slavery wasn’t allowed in Camelot... Not that the way I’m treated is much different...” He muttered under his breath.

“What?” Arthur snapped.

“Nothing... I was just wondering how Holun was allowed to keep a slave here.”

“I’m not about to confiscate his slave, Merlin.” Arthur said with contempt as Merlin pulled his shirt over his head. “Clearly, it’s part of his culture, and will be tolerated until he leaves.”

“Even if he mistreats her... HIM?” He corrected himself quickly.

“I know it’s not right,” Arthur sighed, “but even if I was able to stop him from abusing the boy, it’ll just continue the moment he leaves Camelot.” He shrugged, “Perhaps worse, out of spite.”

Well, that was a waste of time, Merlin mused as he finished dressing the Prince.

...

“Gwen...” he started as he sat in the kitchen, “if you saw a wrong you needed to right, would you do it?”

Guinevere regarded Merlin’s bright blue eyes suspiciously as he looked up at her almost innocently from the kitchen table. What does he want from me this time? Something was always afoot when he looked at her like that. “If it was truly a wrong that needed attention,” She said, cautiously, “and not just the fact that you need more marmalade on your toast.”

Merlin glanced at his breakfast, such as it was. ‘True... more marmalade WOULD be nice...’ forcing himself back to the matter at hand, he picked a grape from the cluster in front of him. “Even if it was illegal?” He popped the grape into his mouth casually as he waited for her reply. 

Gwen took a deep breath, stalling as she contemplated his question. “If it was truly wrong.” She reiterated. 

“Then I have a story for you...” Merlin beckoned to her to sit beside him on the bench as he related the tale of the past two days. 

...

Gwen listened to the amazing story, and when it ended, she stared at him, her eyes as big as saucers. “He was a GIRL?” Merlin looked around, quickly, making sure no one heard her as he made a shushing sound. “Where is she now?” She whispered. 

“Back at work, I suppose.” He said, nonchalantly. Unable to contain himself, he leaned forward and continued, “So? Will you help me?”

“Of course! But what can I do?”

Merlin smiled. “First, we’ll need a change of clothes...”


	3. TRANSFORMATION

Merlin led Raag into a dressing room that afternoon on the ruse that he needed to apply more ointment to her back. She stopped, short, and regarded the stranger in front of her.

“Raag, this is Gwen.” He introduced. “She’s going to help us.”

“With... the ointment?” Asked Raag, not comprehending his gist.

Gwen smiled, sympathetically. “I’m here to help you get away.” 

A pang of fear froze Raag to the spot. “I have to get back...” she turned to find Merlin standing between her and the door. “Please, I have to get back before my Master finds out I’m gone.”

“He’s just had his lunch,” Merlin insisted, “He won’t notice for hours.”

“Please, Merlin,” she implored, as panic began to surface, “please let me go.”

“Look, I have a plan...” he began, “we’re going to hide you right under their noses.”

“They’re going to be looking for a boy.” Gwen took out one of her dresses and showed her. “Not a girl.” She explained.

Raag’s eyes flashed at Merlin with disbelief. “You TOLD her?” She felt completely betrayed. “You PROMISED!”

“You can trust her.” He insured, “I’d trust her with my life.”

Gwen looked at him with gratitude. That was the most considerate thing he could ever say. Raag wasn’t so sure. “Please Merlin, I... I can’t. If I’m caught...” then reality struck, “Oh, God, if I’m caught...” After the beating she received the day before, couldn’t fathom the horror she would face if she angered her Master again.

“This is your chance to be free, Raag.” Merlin persisted, “And I’ll make sure you’re safe. I swear.”

It felt like the earth and the sky were colliding, and Raag didn’t know what to think anymore. Here, in front of her was the chance to be free, but she was afraid. Too afraid to make a choice. Gwen took her hand and led her to the screen behind them. “I want to show you something.” 

It was a bathtub full of water. “Do you want me to bathe you?” Raag asked. Gwen laughed. There was that tinkling sound again... 

“No, it’s for you.” Gwen said. 

It took a moment for her to come to the obvious conclusion. “You drew a bath... for ME?” No one had ever done anything like that for her. In fact no one had ever done anything for her.

“We need you to smell more like... a girl...” Gwen tried to be as tactful as possible. 

The bath smelled wonderful. Like flowers. Raag wanted to soak in it so badly. She hadn’t had a bath in... was it the stream, or the lake? Oh, yes, it was the lake about two months ago, the men had made fun of her because she went in with all her clothes on. Something she could only do once or twice before the weather turned. But she just laughed and said her clothes needed washing, too. As uncomfortable as it was to be soaking wet from head to toe, while she shivered when night fell because she hadn’t completely dried yet, she knew it was worth it. So much better than the alternative. However, fear prevailed and she shook her head adamantly. 

“Look, if they track you here,” Gwen coaxed, “we’ll just tell them we made you take a bath because you smelled so bad.” She continued under her breath, “Which wouldn’t be a complete lie...”

“I smell?” 

Merlin and Gwen both nodded. “You smell like... the stables.” Merlin put it gently, “which doesn’t bode well in the dining room.”

Raag made an ‘O’ with her mouth as she pondered their words. What they were saying made sense. She finally nodded, cautiously. Gwen hung the dress up on the screen, and helped her remove her shirt. She gasped as she saw the scars on her back. 

“Is it bad?” 

“No.” She lied. “If we apply the salve every day, most of your scars will disappear.” She advised. 

Raag just lowered her head and whispered ruefully, “We leave tomorrow.”

“All the more reason to run now.” A voice said from the other side of the screen. Merlin had been listening to their conversation, respectfully facing the door. “Tomorrow will be too late.”

Gwen could see she needed a moment to think about it. “Get in.” She suggested.

Raag hissed as she climbed into the tub. It felt so good, and it was WARM! She could almost feel the dirt floating off in the luxurious water. It enveloped her like a warm blanket, but better, reaching every crease and crevice of her body, and cleansing it. Gwen handed her a washcloth and a bar of soap, which she viewed with confusion. “Do you need me to wash the dishes while I’m in here?” 

“No,” the tinkling sounded again, “this is to wash YOU!” 

Raag scowled, “Soap is for washing dishes, or clothes, or girls.... OH!” 

“Believe it or not, men use soap, too...” came the disembodied voice from the other side of the screen, “Civilized, men, that is.”

“You sound more like Arthur every day.” Chastised Gwen. Realizing that perhaps Raag had never used soap on her body before, she gently undid the bun on the top of her head, letting the long, black hair cascade down to the water, and took the soap from her hand. Making a lather with the water, she then applied it to her hair, massaging it in. 

Raag relished the feeling. So gentle. So wonderful. A woman’s touch. She felt like she could bathe forever, but knew that this was a special favour just for her, and she appreciated it as such. Gwen tapped her on the top of the head. “Down you go!” As Raag submerged herself, rinsing off the soap, Gwen scooped up her clothes that were lying on the floor. 

Merlin sat down where he was, resisting the urge to take just one little peek. He was a Gentleman, after all. Still, it would be a beautiful scene, like one of the portraits in Uther’s chambers, ‘Women bathing’, he would call it, if he could paint. “Psst!” He was brought out of his momentary trance. Raag’s filthy clothes were tossed in his direction. “Take this out and burn it!” Gwen demanded. Merlin took the clothes gingerly, holding them at arms’ length and bolted out of the room.

“Where are my things?” Raag gasped as she came out of the water, to find her clothes missing. 

“I got rid of them.” Gwen shrugged. 

“WHAT? NO!” Her breathing began to double in speed as she felt panic rising in her. “They’re the only things I own!” How could I have been so careless?

“It’s alright,” Gwen tried to calm her down, “you have this to wear, now.” She showed her the dress hanging on the screen. Raag refused to be mollified as she tried to get out of the bath, ready to chase down her only belongings. Gwen stood her ground, not letting her up from the slippery tub. “Look, after we’re done, if you still want to go back to your Master, I will give you new boy’s clothes. Alright?” 

Raag relented. “New?” The word was almost alien to her. 

Gwen nodded as she handed her a cloth to dry off the excess water. As she carefully began to apply the salve (the actual reason she was there) to her back, Raag moaned with relief while her cool hands went to work quelling the dull ache. “Now let’s try the dress on.” She said as she slipped it over her head. 

...

“Coming in!” Merlin called out as he stumbled into the room, just as Gwen was tying up the dress. He feigned a look of disappointment, as Gwen shot a look back that told him he wasn’t fooling anyone. “Don’t you look nice!” He couldn’t help commenting.

Gwen began to brush her wet hair. “Who knew there was a girl underneath all that dirt?”

Raag wasn’t as amused. “This is not LARK. If Holun’s men find me... if they find me like this...” she stopped. Raag watched the horrors spinning in her head. They would grab her, and the dress would rip, and once they discovered that she was a girl... even Holun would not be able to stop the frenzy that would follow. 

She had witnessed it, several years ago, when they were heading back to Mongol for the winter and to stock up on more wares and supplies. One of the men had enticed a hapless girl in the tavern as they were passing through her village, and after determining that she lived alone, he offered to walk her home. But instead of escorting her safely, they stole her away into the night. They locked the poor girl in one of the empty caravans and there they kept her for their pleasure, until they reached their homeland. 

As she was playing with the dog, Raag became curious when she heard thumping within the caravan. Knowing all the men were having dinner around the campfire, she went to investigate, even though she was warned never to venture near. “Da?” She asked, wondering if the girl wanted anything. There was a crack in the door, so she looked in. Seeing a shadow move, she asked again, “Da?” moving in for a closer look. 

It was like a flash of lightning. A hand reached out from the caravan and grabbed Raag, clutching on so tightly that she thought her arm would break, all the while screeching nonsensical words. Weeks of abuse had turned the girl into more of a wild animal than a human being. All Raag could remember was screaming and screaming as she tried to loosen the girl’s grip. The commotion brought the men over, and one pried the girl’s fingers off her arm, while another man unlocked the caravan door and went in. Terrified, Raag ran and hid in her Master’s tent. Behind her she heard a sickening crack, and the girl went silent. 

Raag took deep breaths to calm herself as reality sunk in, and she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that would be her fate were she to stay with Holun. “Please help me.” She whispered. 

Gwen looked at her with sympathy. “That’s what we’re here to do.” She turned the girl to the mirror. Raag stared at her reflection. The transformation had begun. 

“Oooh,” the dress was lovely. A pale green, with embroidery around the collar. Synched in the waist, it raised her breasts up above the gathered blouse. Raag couldn’t resist touching the cleavage, something she never knew she had. 

Gwen slapped her hand away, “Women don’t touch themselves in public.” She berated her. 

Raag had to make do with looking at herself in the mirror, as she turned left and right, staring at her new figure from different angles. Because she was unaccustomed to having her legs encased by yards of material, the first thing she did as Gwen pulled her away toward the makeup table was to trip on her dress. Even though Gwen tried her best to teach her how to pick up the hem of her dress as she walked, she managed to trip again. And again. She finally resolved it herself by gathering the skirt into a ball in front of her as she moved to the table and sat down in a most unladylike fashion. Gwen eventually got her to try practicing walking with her dress down, so that she could do so in public. Somewhat. “It’s one thing to look like a woman,” she told her, “it’s another to act like one.”

Gwen sat her down again and applied blush on her cheeks. Then she rubbed lipstick from a small pot onto Raag’s lips. “Mmmm,” she said, as her tongue darted out to taste the concoction. It was the best thing she had ever tasted. Unable to control herself, she began to lick her lips constantly.

“What is that made of?” Merlin curiously dipped his finger into the pot.

“Honey, wax and powdered raspberries.” Was the answer. Merlin licked his finger and replaced it into the pot. “Is all makeup this delicious?” He said as he watched Raag remove all her lipstick with her tongue. 

“This is expensive!” Gwen hissed as she snapped the lid back on, and put it back into her pocket. “Why don’t you go make sure Raag hasn’t been missed?”

Merlin nodded in agreement and headed off to scour the castle for any disturbances. 

Turning back to Raag, she gave an exasperated sigh. “Alright, let’s do something with your hair.” 

...

When he returned, Gwen looked terse as she passed him in the doorway. “I have to get some food.” She said, curtly. 

Merlin frowned. He had never seen Gwen like that. “What happened?” He asked Raag.

“I don’t know.” She was truly confused. “We were talking, and she said something funny, so I laughed, and she left.”

“What was so funny?”

“Oh, I don’t know, she said something about men having hairy backs,” She began to giggle, remembering the joke, and then laughed, full out. Merlin couldn’t help noticing that it sounded like a donkey’s bray. 

Ascertaining that it couldn’t have been that, as annoying as it was, he turned to put away the ointment, and was almost sent sprawling across the room when Raag smacked him, good-naturedly, on the back. “Ahhh, I understand now, women don’t do that...” he broached as soon as the shock wore off.

“Do what?”

“Hit people on the back when they laugh, and they laugh... well... quieter,” he struggled to find an example, “remember when we watched those girls in the kitchen? What did you say about their laughter?”

“The tinkling of bells.” Raag balked, “You want me to laugh like THAT?”

“For a start.” he suggested, “Try covering your mouth,” he demonstrated, “like this... tee hee hee...”

“Tee hee hee?”

“Yes, that’s the way women laugh.”

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“OK...” She gave it a try. “Tee hee...” she tried again, “Tee hee hee” it sounded so absurd, they both began to laugh. She covered her mouth quickly as the donkey bray surfaced.

“Maybe you need to work on it.”

“Maybe I do!” She conceded.

Gwen came back in with a tray of tea and fruit. “You two look like you’re having fun,” 

Merlin nudged Raag. “I’m sorry if I hurt you,” she apologized, “are you alright?”

Gwen smiled, appreciating the apology. “I’m fine. It just made me realize that we have a lot of work to do.” She set the tray down on the table in front of Raag. “We’ll start with table manners. Let’s have some tea.” 

Merlin got up quickly. “I need to attend to Arthur.” 

“Oh, no you don’t.” Gwen stopped him, “Arthur is in meetings all afternoon with Holun. You need to brush up on your manners, too.”

“I,” Merlin said, pointedly, “am Prince Arthur’s Manservant. I am well versed in the the delicate art of entertaining.”

“And when was the last time you participated in a function as a guest?”

Merlin was caught. “Oh, very well.” He sat down, not completely dissatisfied, there was food, after all. Raag was very happy he relented. 

Gwen poured the tea. Raag looked at the tiny cup dismayed. It was ridiculously small. Not like the tankard she usually drank out of. Handing each person a napkin, Gwen picked up her cup. 

In Raag’s defence, she was extremely hungry. She immediately grabbed a handful of grapes in one hand, and a delicious apple in the other, taking bites out of both fruits. Juice dribbled down her chin, as she delighted in its’ goodness. She began to wipe her hands, now all sticky, on her clothes. “No no no!” Gwen cried out, “use the napkin! That’s what it’s there for!”

Merlin chortled as he stuffed a handful of his own grapes into his mouth. 

“You’re not helping.” She snapped at him. 

“I’m helping myself!” He joked. 

Raag laughed loudly, slapping her hand over her mouth as the donkey bray appeared. “Tee hee hee?” She meekly tried to assuage Gwen. 

“Sit up straight,” Gwen tried to continue, “don’t put the food directly in your mouth, make sure you place it on the plate, first.” She demonstrated by putting a small cluster of grapes down. 

“But if I don’t use the plate, I won’t have to wash it afterwards.” Raag logicized. 

“It’ll be washed, regardless of whether you use it or not.” Was the answer. “And for goodness sake, eat with your mouth closed!”

__________________________________________

Holun found the dog in the stables, alone. The stalls hadn’t been cleaned yet, and it was almost dinner time. “Find the boy.” He said to his men angrily as he marched back to his quarters. 

One of the men took the leash down from the post and clipped it onto the dog. “Go get Raag.” He told him.

Kendo looked up and wagged his tail. “RAAG? I LOVE RAAG. WHERE IS HE? IS THIS A GAME? I LOVE GAMES. RAAG! RAAG! I WANT TO PLAY, RAAG!” He stopped to sniff a sack and a mouse ran out. He began to chase the mouse but the guard pulled him back. “OH, RIGHT, RAAG! I THINK HE WENT THIS WAY... I SMELL THAT MAN, THE ONE THAT CAME TO VISIT LAST NIGHT. YES, AND HE HAS THAT OINTMENT WITH HIM! RAAG! RAAG! WHERE DID YOU GO? FOOD!” He was immediately yanked away from the kitchen door, “OH, UP THE STAIRS! THERE! THERE! DOWN THE HALLWAY! RAAG! YOU FORGOT TO TAKE ME! I’LL FIND YOU! I LIKE THIS GAME! THROUGH THIS DOOR! RAAG! THERE YOU ARE! YOU SMELL DIFFERENT. WHY ARE YOU SCREAMING? WAIT! AAAACHOOOO!! COME BACK! WHY ARE YOU RUNNING AWAY? RAAG!! AAAACHOOOO! AAAACHOOOO!”

Merlin smiled to himself as the lavender powder ‘somehow’ tipped over and onto the dog. “What are you doing here?” He asked the men, trying to look somewhat miffed. 

“We’re looking for the boy, Raag, have you seen him?”

“AAAAAAACHOOOOO!”

“Can you kindly take this dog out of here?” Merlin pointedly remarked, assuming a casual, yet angry pose. “As you can see, there is no boy here, and you’re frightening the women.” 

“I’m sorry,” the guard said, awkwardly. Clearly not used to apologizing, he was more than happy to get out of there. “let’s go.”

“AAAAAAACHOOOOO!”

They turned to leave. “The dog’s of no use, now.” He mumbled. 

Merlin quickly closed the door and leaned against it. Letting out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, he ran down the back staircase and into the kitchen, where he found Gwen trying to coax Raag out from under the table.

“It’s safe.” He told her as he darted under the table after her. “You can come out.” Terrified, Raag shook her head adamantly. “Look, you can’t stay here forever. I have to serve dinner now, the Prince gets very grouchy if it’s not on time. Kind of like a petulant child.” With that, he managed to get her up and handed her over to Gwen. 

Gwen gave him a disdainful look. “Come on, you’ll be safe at my place.” She told her, as she stopped Raag from using her sleeve to wipe her nose by handing her a napkin.

Sir Gwaine was on his way by for his afternoon snack, and perked up when he noticed the women leaving the kitchen. “Who’s the new girl?” He asked Merlin. “She’s VERY pretty!”


	4. TOURNAMENT

They made their way nonchalantly through the town. When they entered Gwen’s house, she peered outside before she closed her door. “This is my humble home.”

Raag looked around in wonder. “Oh... do you have a family?”

“No,” she laughed, “It’s just me.”

“Are you a grand lady?” Raag couldn’t believe that she had such a place all to herself. “This is bigger than Holun’s tent!” 

“Sit down,” Gwen offered, when she noticed Raag hovering by the door. “I’m going to start a fire for dinner.” 

“Do you need me to help?” Raag offered, “do you need more wood?”

“No, I’m fine,” she assured her, “and you should stay inside for a while.”

“Right. Of course.” Raag realized they would still be looking for her. She watched Gwen as she deftly began the fire and started dinner. “Merlin...” she started, “is he your man friend?”

“Merlin?” Gwen looked at her, surprised, “Oh, goodness no!” She laughed. “I don’t have a man friend, not really.” 

Raag frowned, wondering how a woman so pretty wouldn’t have a suitor. “What do you do at the castle?” She inquired. 

“I’m a handmaiden.” She said as she began the root stew, throwing a lid on the pot and putting it into the fire to cook. “Or at least I was.”

“You were? What happened?”

“My Mistress Morgana,” she tried to find a reason for Morgana’s departure without saying anything bad about her to a stranger, “had to leave for a time.”

“When will she be back?”

“No one knows.” She sighed, “So I help out in the castle until her return.”

There was an abrupt knock on the door. “Open up! This is a search.” An unfamiliar voice demanded. 

Gwen immediately handed a sewing basket to Raag. “Here.” She said, “make yourself busy, and no matter what happens, don’t look up!”

Raag did as she was told, understanding that if anyone were to see her face, they would discover that she was Mongol, which could be extremely difficult to explain. 

Making sure everything was in order, Gwen wiped her hands on her apron and opened the door. Two of Holun’s guards pushed their way in. “We’re looking for the slave boy, Raag. Have you seen him?”

“No,” she replied brusquely, “and as you can see, we are the only two here.”

The guards, not willing to take her word for it, began to look behind the furniture, knocking things down on the floor. One guard confronted Raag. “Did you see anyone?” He demanded. She looked down and shook her head. “Look at me. I’m talking to you.” Raag began to tremble, and shook her head even harder. 

“Leave her alone. Don’t you see she’s afraid of you?” She ran to Raag’s side. “She’s already answered your question. She hasn’t seen him. You can’t just barge in here bullying people and throwing things around.”

Arthur appeared at the door. “Out.” He ordered the men.

“Arthur!” Gwen exclaimed, disappointed with him, “Why are you helping these people?”

Arthur tried to avoid her stare, “Diplomatic courtesy, I suppose.” He said, guiltily. “Look, I don’t like it any more than you do. The boy disappeared within our confines, so it’s our duty to find him.”

“And then what? Do you just hand him back?”

“The boy is Holun’s property, Gwen. I have to give him back, no different than if he was his horse, or his dog.”

No one noticed the girl in the corner shrinking back, making herself even smaller.

“He’s probably run into the woods or become wilddeoren food by now. Not that I blame him,” Gwen replied angrily. “I heard what happened in the dining room.”

“How did you find out?”

“Everyone knows.”

“Merlin!” Arthur gave a sour look.  


“It’s not his fault, the word would have gotten out anyways. You know you can’t stop gossip in the castle. I even heard that last night Holun beat the boy with a horsewhip, just because he went to watch the parade.” She appealed to his true nature. “The parade, Arthur! Every child should be able to see a parade.”

Arthur hated this. “I’ll see what I can do without losing face.” He set his jaw and pursed his lips with determination. “They leave at dawn. Holun told me that they will be back at the second moon. I can tell him that if I find the boy, I will hold him in the dungeon for them.”

“In the dungeon?” Gwen was appalled. “Isn’t that a little drastic?”

“I won’t HOLD him in the dungeon, Gwen,” Arthur defended his decision. “I’m just going to TELL Holun that!”

Gwen smiled at him for the first time, “Thank you, Arthur.”

Arthur nodded, “My apologies for disturbing you and your friend.”

She curtseyed, “Apology accepted, my Lord.” She gave him a sly smile.

With that, he left the room. Gwen hurriedly closed the door and made her way over to Raag who was, by now, beside herself. “Shhh, shhh,” she calmed her down, “they’re gone now,” she wiped her tears away with a napkin, “there there,” she rocked the terrified girl, gently. “You were very brave.” Raag took a stuttered breath. “Dinner’s ready,” she said, changing the subject, “are you hungry?”

Somewhat placated, Raag nodded. Gwen ladled out two bowls and placed them on the table along with two spoons, and a loaf of bread. Raag more straddled the bench than sat down at the table, tearing off a chunk of bread, and using it to shovel the food into her mouth. Gwen put her hand up, but thought better of it, realizing this wasn’t the time to point out her obvious lack of decorum, and let Raag enjoy what could possibly be the first hot meal she had in ages. 

Gwen barely had two bites before Raag polished off her bowl, and sopped up the gravy with the remaining bread. “Would you like some more?” She offered. 

Raag looked up with astonishment. “There’s more?” There was never any left when Holun’s men ate, and she had certainly never been offered more. Gwen nodded. “Yes please!” Was the emphatic answer. 

Gwen scraped the rest of the pot into her bowl, and just as she was about to grab another chunk of bread, Raag stopped. Following Gwen’s lead, Raag sat up straight, and picked up her spoon.

...  
“You can sleep in the pantry, if that’s alright.” Gwen offered, as she began to move a sack of potatoes over. It was a small room, separated from the rest of the house by a thin curtain. “I’m sorry I don’t have an extra bed for you.”

Raag sat down on the hearth. “Can I sleep here, instead?” She didn’t know what, but the warm stones reminded her of something good from a lifetime ago. 

Gwen smiled. “Of course, if you like. Let me get you a pillow and some blankets.” 

As Raag lay on the cosy bed Gwen had made for her, she began to think about her dog/pillow. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed quietly, “I’m sorry we can’t say goodbye.” It was dark outside, and she knew that Kendo always made one last patrol around the stables and the caravans before he went to sleep at night. The thought had crossed her mind to try and find him, but she knew that would be the first place they would look. Gwen’s heart went out to the girl as she heard her softly crying herself to sleep.

The next morning, a lone figure watched the caravans packing up to leave. From the safety of the tower window, Raag could see Holun and the Prince having a discussion. Even though they were too far away to hear, she could tell from their body language that the conversation was tense. The horse was brought out and Holun mounted her. “Altani.” A tear fell as she reached out to pet the soft nose in the air. As Holun took his place at the head of the caravan, the dog dutifully climbed into the rear wagon. He sneezed, and lay his down sadly, his head between his paws. “Goodbye, Kendo.” The dog perked up as if he heard her, and Raag gasped, adhering herself to the wall, away from the window before she was seen. She didn’t dare look again until she heard the hooves heading away. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched the blurry caravans disappear down the road with her family. 

(...)___________________________________________  
With Holun and his men gone, Raag was able to explore the citadel and enjoy her new-found freedom. After a week, Gwen managed to find her employment in the castle washing dishes and peeling potatoes. Although it was one of the lowliest jobs in Camelot, Raag didn’t mind a bit. For her, it was leagues above the work she had to do for Holun. Once she was done preparing the vegetables to be cooked, she wasn’t needed until after the meal was over to wash the dishes, so she even had time in the mornings to accompany Gwen while she went around collecting the laundry. 

“Ho ho!” Sir Gwaine said as he ran into them in the hallway. “Who’s this, Gwen? Are you so grand that you have an assistant now?”

Gwaine’s devil-may-care attitude didn’t fool her for a minute. “This is Raag, I’m just teaching her the duties around the castle.” 

“These look heavy.” He observed. “Let me help you carry them.” He took half of the sheets from Raag. 

“Mine are heavy, too.” Gwen mentioned. Of course they weren’t, but she couldn’t resist stating her point. 

“Uh-huh.” Gwaine mumbled dismissively as he escorted Raag down the hallway. 

Gwen couldn’t help smiling to herself as she followed them. Nor was she surprised when he showed up again two days later. She suspected that he had been waiting all morning for them to appear. 

Raag liked Gwaine immediately. He reminded her of the only man that had treated her with kindness in the camp. He was funny, like Gwaine, and a soldier of fortune. The Soldier had taken her under his wing, of sorts, teaching the boy swordplay and how to use a crossbow. “There.” He whispered, pointing to a doe in the thick of the woods. “Aim for the heart. Shoot. NOW!” 

Raag took a step back. THWANG! Went the crossbow, and the doe fell down, dead. The Soldier turned to Raag. “Why didn’t you take the shot?” Raag shrugged and shook her head, staring at the ground as she always did. The Soldier strode forward to retrieve his prize. “Don’t worry,” he mumbled, his disappointment in Raag apparent, “You’ll learn to kill when you’re hungry enough.” Raag followed him to help take the deer back to the camp.

That night, as Raag was cleaning the campsite, she stopped to gnaw on the leftover bones left on the men’s plates. “Do you remember where those came from, boy?” Came a voice from behind her. Raag nodded, trying to make herself as small as possible. She ate faster, worried that the plate would be snatched away at any moment. “You couldn’t make the kill, but you have no problem eating the leftovers.” Clearly The Soldier had told him the story. The whole camp probably knew all the details. Holun leaned over and growled in her ear. “Do you know what they call people like that?” Raag shook her head, trying not to look at him, fearing it would just feed his wrath. “Scavengers. One step above a thief.” He sneered as he continued. “Or Girls. Are you a GIRL?” Raag shook her head ‘NO’, but her heart leapt and nodded, adamantly.

She saw the boot coming toward her and managed to absorb the blow with her body before Holun could kick the plate into the campfire. “These are for Kendo!” She cried out, knowing that her Master would stop if she made it clear that the bones were for the dog.

“Then take it to him, boy.” Holun replied as he turned back to his tent.

Raag took a deep breath, relieved to be left alone, and then scurried away to find Kendo before he changed his mind.

(...)___________________________________  
“How is it that we have never met before?” Sir Gwaine asked as they sat in the solarium. He thought he knew all the fair maidens in the citadel. Raag was different, though. She was straightforward, never playing the games the other girls did, trying to be coy or shy when they were actually weaving a web to entrap him into more of a relationship than he was willing to offer. But her most refreshing attribute was that she didn’t twitter annoyingly behind her hand when she laughed. He remembered the first time he heard that laugh, barely masking his surprise when she smacked him on the arm in an unladylike fashion when she got his joke, and chortled whole-heartedly, making him laugh even more. 

“We have met.” She answered, pulling him out of his rumination. 

He had almost forgotten the question. “Really? When?”

They had been meeting secretly for a week, now, and Raag felt she knew him well enough to tell him the truth. He seemed trustworthy, and never gave her cause to think otherwise. “In the banquet hall. The day Holun came.”

“You couldn’t have come with Holun’s caravan.” He protested. “I would have remembered such a beautiful woman as yourself at the banquet.”

Merlin hovered nearby, listening. He had seen them going into the solarium together and had become concerned. In fact, whenever they met, Merlin would follow, ready to step in at any time to keep their secret safe. 

Raag lowered her head, “I-I was his servant.” She confessed. “You came to my aid when my Master hurt me.”

“That was you? The boy?” Gwaine was gobsmacked. “But... you’re not a boy.”

Raag shook her head, afraid to look him in the eye.

“They were searching for you...”

“I know, but no one realized I was a girl.” She admitted, “Gwen gave me this dress, and hid me until they left.” She finally looked up. “Are you angry?”

“No,” Gwaine said, as soon as he found his voice again, “no, of course not. I think it’s a wonderful story! Worth a couple of free ales in the tavern, at least!” 

Raag gasped. “Please don’t tell anyone!”

“I won’t, I promise. I was just joking!” Bravado aside, his head was still whirling with questions. “But... if you came with the caravans, how is it that you can speak Eng...”

“Arthur!” Merlin broke in. 

“You must need spectacles, Merlin,” he laughed, “I’m Gwaine!”

“No.... I mean, I know...” Merlin had to think fast, “I meant that Arthur needs you... I’ve been looking all over for you!” he lied, “He’s in the chapel. He said something about praying together before you go to the tournament.”

Gwaine balked. “Arthur never prays before we go to the tournament.”

“I...I don’t know what’s gotten into him,” Merlin kept up the lie, “he wants you... and all of the Knights, in the chapel.”

“But Merlin...”

“Go,” he ushered him up and out the door, “go, I can only hope he’s still there.”

“Wait,” he had a request. “Raag, before I enter the tournament this afternoon, I would be honoured if you would give me a token to take with me into battle.”

“A token?” She had seen maidens give their knights a piece of silk, or material for luck. She reached into her hair. “Will this do?” She asked as she gave him a ribbon.

“Thank you, my dear.” Gwaine nodded as he took the token and left to find Arthur. 

Raag giggled. “My dear...” she repeated to herself.

As soon as he was out of sight, Merlin turned to her. “We need to talk.”

“About what?”

Merlin led her to the bench they had been sitting on, and looked about quickly. “If anyone asks you where you learned English, you have to tell them you learnt it from a traveller.” He confided. 

She scowled. “But I haven’t learnt English.” 

Merlin sighed. There was no way around this. “I’ve kept your secret, now you need to keep mine. Do you promise?”

“I promise,” she had no idea what she was promising to, but she trusted Merlin implicitly. “What secret?”

“When we first met, I placed a spell on you.” He admitted. “It was called ‘the Spell of a Thousand Tongues’ and it enables you to understand and speak all languages.”

Raag’s eyes grew wide. “You’re a Wizard?”

“Yes, but you mustn’t tell ANYONE.” He insisted. 

“Why not?”

“Because it is outlawed here.” He explained. “Those that are caught practicing magic are burned at the stake, along with anyone that associates with them.” 

Raag frowned. “Where I’m from, Wizards are revered. Like seers and dragons.”

“Not here.” Merlin snorted. 

“Why do you stay in such a heartless place, then?” She reasoned, “Why don’t you go somewhere that will give you the respect and adulation you deserve?”

“Because my destiny is here. In Camelot.”

“Your destiny?”

“Yes. Everyone has a destiny.”

“I don’t.”

“Yes you do. I’m just fortunate, if you can call it that, to know mine.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” she argued, “you are a wizard who can cast spells! Oh!” She gasped, “Your spell... does this mean everyone HASN’T been speaking Mongol to me?” 

“What do you think?” Merlin let her absorb her new reality. 

Raag hesitated, “I can understand... all languages?”

“As far as I know.”

“How long does the spell last?”

“I’m not sure, a month, a year, forever?” He surmised, “I suspect there is a very good chance it will stay until I find the spell to remove it.”

Raag became quiet while she contemplated his words as they left the solarium. “Thank you.” She finally said.

“For what?”

“For deeming that I was worthy enough to receive this precious gift,” She smiled genuinely, “no matter how long it lasts.”

(...)_____________________________________________

Everything in Camelot stopped when the tournament was in progress. Shops closed down, laundry was ignored, classes were dismissed. The only building that had any movement within was the castle kitchen. Someone needed to prepare the Knight’s banquet to honour the champion. Raag finished her chores quickly, and ran over to watch the festivities. 

Prince Arthur, with Gwen standing nearby, was overseeing the event. As the interment ruler, he had to be the adjudicator, should there be any discrepancies, but mostly it was because the celebration was for him. All the competitors lined up to pay homage to the Prince. Arthur sighed, as he waved them on. It was boring sitting at the throne, high above the action. He wanted to compete as well, but SOMEONE had to represent the monarchy. Otherwise, he would be down there having fun, instead of just watching it. 

Raag could tell as soon as she arrived which Knight was Sir Gwaine. Even though her token was not as dainty or richly embroidered as the ones the other knights displayed, she could easily spot her red ribbon proudly tucked into Gwaine’s belt. 

He fought gallantly, until he and his opponent were the last ones standing. The crowd cheered and waved flags as they faced each other. Even though Sir Gwaine wasn’t as tall as Sir Percival, he was much more agile. He ducked and swooped, as Percival tried to disarm him, but Gwaine was much too spry. He nimbly leapt behind him and with one fell swoop, kicked the back of his knees, buckling his legs out from under him. Percival fell like a mighty oak, crashing to the ground, as Gwaine knocked the sword out of his hand, and held his to Percival’s neck. Thunderous applause filled the arena as Percival conceded. 

Arthur indicated to a pretty young woman, and she hung a gold medallion around Sir Gwaine’s neck as she kissed him on the cheek. Raag felt an odd pang of jealousy as she watched from the crowd. Gwaine waved, looking around. ‘Could he be looking for me?’ She wondered. As the crowd began to disperse, she held back a little as the triumphant Knight received pats on the back and accolades from his rivals and fans. His smile widened as he saw her approach. “Raag!” He called out, “Were you watching?”

“Of course!” She teased, “I wanted to see my ribbon win!”

“Your ribbon?” Gwaine asked, surprised, “I was the one that won the tournament!”

“It was your good luck charm, was it not?” She followed him into his tent.

“Yes...” 

“Then it was the ribbon that won!”

Gwaine noted that they were alone in the tent, “Well, if it was my ribbon that won, then I get to claim the prize!” He leaned over to kiss her. 

“Aaaah, but you forget... it was MY ribbon.” She skirted his kiss and crossed over to the other side of the tent.

“Fine.” He took the ribbon out of his belt, “take the dratted thing back, then, why would I want a kiss from you, anyways? You’re not even pretty.” He feigned distaste, “Your eyes are much too big, and your smile is much too wide.”

He dangled the ribbon just out of reach, and as she tried to grab it, he kissed her. “You stole a kiss!” She cried out, indignantly, “give it back!”

“As you wish,” Sir Gwaine pulled her closer to him by the small of her back and they embraced again.

...  
That evening, while the Knights were celebrating with the Prince, Raag looked at herself in the mirror, as if for the first time. She looked into her eyes that were too big, and inspected her smile that was too wide, but still couldn’t see what Gwaine saw. Giving up, she smiled a shy smile. No matter what she thought, Gwaine seemed to like what he saw and that was good enough for her.

(...)__________________________________

“You seem tense, Arthur.” Merlin noted as he helped him remove his ceremonial garb and into his night clothes. 

“I’m not tense,” Arthur corrected, “I’m concerned.”

“Why? The tournament went well, and everyone had a good time,” Merlin smirked, “especially Sir Gwaine!”

“I’m not worried about the tournament, you idiot!” With a heavy sigh, Arthur relented and told Merlin what had been bothering him all day. “We’re in the first moon,” he confided, “Holun will be returning soon, expecting to retrieve the boy.”

Merlin folded the clothes and put them away. “What do you care if the boy is found or not?”

“Unfortunately Holun holds us responsible for losing the boy. If he isn’t returned, he will withhold the sale of the black powder. All the kingdoms around us will have it, except for Camelot. If there is a war, we’ll be sitting ducks.”

“What is so special about the black powder?” Merlin asked as he laid Arthur’s clothes out for the morning. 

“It is a powerful force, Merlin. I heard that it has the ability to open iron gates, or throw carts up to the sky, turning them into piles of sticks, and even kill soldiers en masse. The entire fortress will be in jeopardy.” Arthur shook his head resolutely. “We will have to double our efforts to find the boy, and perhaps increase the penalty for hiding a fugitive. Woe be to anyone who is fool enough to give him aid.”

Merlin left the room, deeply disturbed, leaving Arthur to mull over his next move as he stared out of his window.


	5. EMPATH

“Why are you named Raag?” Sir Gwaine asked as they sat their usual meeting place in the solarium.

“Because I am only worth the rags I wear.”

“Oh...” not the answer he expected, Gwaine realized, so he changed the subject. “It’s not very ‘feminine’.”

“My master always thought I was a boy.” She shrugged. 

“We should pick a new name for you.”

“My Master GAVE me my name.” Raag insisted, “It’s the only thing I HAVE!”

“Then we shall keep it, but let’s make it prettier, like you.”

Raag blushed. 

“I shall call you... Rageze... no, Aragit... hmmm, Ragis?” He kept spouting out more possibilities. Ragenal... I know! Ragnelle! What do you think?”

She lowered her eyes. “If it pleases you.”

“No, whatever pleases you. It’s YOUR choice. It’s your name, after all.” He took her hand as they began to stroll down the lane. “Do you like it?”

“Yes.” Ragnelle smiled, shyly. 

“Come, let me escort you to the palace, M’Lady Ragnelle. The night is falling.”

She giggled at his joke. “I’m not a lady!”

“You would be if you married a Knight...”

“What Knight would want to marry me?” She asked, modesty.

“Any Knight would LOVE to marry you, my beauty!” He took out his sword and jabbed it in the air. “And I will fight each and every one of them if they try!”

Raag snatched a wooden sword from a boy in the alley. “Only if you get past me!”

Sir Gwaine sheathed his sword and grabbed another wooden weapon from the boy’s playmate. As they scuffled amidst the boys’ protests, Gwaine couldn’t help being impressed with Raag’s skill. Even with a dress on, she could deflect his parries, leap onto a table, and make some effective attacks of her own. Gwaine could have easily disarmed her but he held back, letting the game go on longer. He finally knocked the sword from her hand and pinned her to the wall, “It looks like the lady is once again defenceless.” The sword fell, and a little girl picked it up with awe, having watched the ‘battle’. Raising it high in the air, she turned on the boys, charging at them as they screamed and ran down the alley. 

Ragnelle gazed at him and batted her dark eyelashes, “A lady is never defenceless.” She brought her lips closer to his. Captivated, Gwaine let his guard down a little. Taking the advantage she pushed hard against his sternum with the back of her palms, ducked under his arm and ran down the street laughing. The wind knocked out of him, Gwaine took a moment to recover before he could pursue her again. 

He caught up to Ragnelle when she tripped on the castle stairs. “I would have made it, if it wasn’t for this dress!” She pouted. 

Gwaine sat down beside her on the stairs, rubbing his chest painfully. “Are you alright?” He panted.

“Yes,” Raag threw her head back and laughed, “Are YOU alright?”

He lay on the stairs beside her. “That was cheating.”

“All’s fair in love and war...” she gave him a peck on the cheek as she jumped to her feet. 

“Does that mean that you love me?”

“No,” she shouted down to him from the top of the stairs, “it means we’re at war!” She disappeared into the castle. 

Rolling his eyes, Gwaine chased after her, following her laughter down the hallway. He caught up to her easily and they quickly embraced, “Let’s find some privacy.” Looking around to make sure no-one saw, he took her hand and led her, giggling, into his quarters. It was a sparsely decorated room, consisting of a cot and a table with two chairs. There were no decorations to speak of save his trophies and medallions carelessly tossed on top of his trunk.

Sitting beside each other on the bed, they lost themselves in their passionate embrace. Having never been kissed before she had her lips pursed awkwardly. Gwaine opened his eyes and looked into her large ebony ones, charmed by her naïveté. “Open your mouth,” he instructed her. Forcing herself to relax, she opened her mouth slightly as he kissed her again, the tip of his tongue gently probing hers. She instinctively reciprocated, swirling his as it went deeper into her mouth hungry for more. Turning her so that she rested on his lap they continued their caress. He kissed down her neck while his hands roamed along her back and under her blouse. Raag stiffened, sitting up abruptly. “What’s wrong?” He asked. 

“I’m ugly.”

Gwaine, not understanding what she meant, held her head between his hands, “Don’t talk like that, you’re beautiful.”

“No. My...” She struggled to find the right words. “I have wounds back there.”

Gwaine back up for a moment. “You mean from your...”

Raag looked down at the ground, embarrassed. “Yes.” She said, softly. 

Gwaine felt a red hot anger flash in him. How could anyone treat an innocent, whether it be a boy or a girl, with such malice? 

Raag saw his face change, and mistaking his anger to be directed at her, shrank back. The old fears rose as she winced, raising her arm in defence. “No, please,” she quickly begged, “I’m sorry...” 

“Oh, no!” Gwaine managed to bring her arm back down, and hugged her tightly. “I’M sorry. I didn’t mean to...” He could feel her trembling, and pulled back a little to look into her tear-filled eyes. “I have scars on my back, too, you know.” He disclosed, trying to make her feel better, “Do you want to see?”

She couldn’t help smiling through her tears, “If you think we’re going to compare scars...”

“No. You don’t have to show me anything.” He assured her as he continued. “One of my misadventures caused me to find myself on the wrong side of the battlefield in Spania. I was captured, and we were forced to pull the giant weapons for my enemy. Of course I resisted, but unfortunately they were very persuasive.” He took off his shirt, and turned his back to her. 

Ragnelle gasped. She could actually feel how much the whip must have hurt as she traced the dozen or so white scars covering his back. Her eyes filled with tears once again, but this time it was for him.

“No, no, no!” Gwaine quickly turned around and comforted her when he heard her sobs. “Don’t cry for me, little one! That was a long, long time ago.” He smiled down at her. “I’m alright now, see? Eventually they’ll disappear, and you’ll only be able to see them from close up, like nothing ever happened.” He could taste her tears as he kissed her eyes tenderly and he changed the subject. “Do you want something to drink?” 

Giving a stuttered breath, she nodded. Gwaine went to the table and lifted up the jug. It was empty. Besides, he was ill prepared for guests, being that he only had one mug of dubious cleanliness. “I’ll be right back.” He promised as he threw his shirt back on and made his way down to the kitchen.

By the time he returned, Ragnelle had fallen asleep on the cot. He placed the jug with two cups down on the table and sighed. Sitting down on the chair, he watched her sleeping with wonderment. How could this girl have touched his heart so? He had been with many other women, but somehow this one brightened up his dismal room, even when she was sleeping. He could still hear her distinct laughter when he chased her down the hallway. He still felt her gentle touch on his skin. All he wanted to do was protect her and show her the love she’d been missing all her life. 

The rooster crowed, pulling Ragnelle from her deep slumber. As she stirred to consciousness, she began to remember where she was. Gwaine had left her alone in his room, and she had curled up, wracked with emotion. The bed enveloped her with a softness she hadn’t felt for ages. The only time Holun allowed her on his bed was when his feet were cold, and he ordered her to wrap herself around them as he slept. She was grateful for those nights, because it meant that she was allowed the comfort her body craved. But there was a price. The last time Holun pressed his frozen feet against her stomach, he brushed against her growing breasts, and thinking she was gaining too much weight, put her on half rations. She felt guilty when she was forced to steal the edible bits from Kendo’s food, but she knew that if the dog was still hungry, he could easily chase down a squirrel, or pounce on an unsuspecting grouse in the woods. Kendo didn’t seem to mind, she told herself while she watched him wolf down his food, shivering in the cold because she didn’t have enough fuel in her body to suffice. That being said, it was a small consolation that she didn’t grow that month. 

She had stretched out, letting the softness surround every inch of her body, revelling in having a whole bed to herself, and brought the blanket up to her chin, encasing herself in its’ warmth. That was the last thing she remembered until the cock crowed. 

Gwaine sat up from the floor, where he had been sleeping. She had looked so comfortable on his bed that he didn’t want to disturb her, so he took the spare blanket, and slept beside her on the ground. “Good morning!” Was all he was able to say. 

Raag screamed. 

“Umph!” Gwaine felt her tiny fist contact with his nose and heard a crack. 

“Oh no!” She cried out when she realized what she had done. She looked over the edge of the bed as Gwaine rolled about on the floor, holding his bleeding nose. “I’m sorry, are you alright?”

“Honestly,” Gwaine moaned, “I have never been so abused by a woman in my life!”

Raag couldn’t stop laughing, she was so relieved. She knelt down beside him and handed him his washcloth. “I’d better get to work,” she said as she kissed his forehead, “I have some explaining to do to Gwen!”

Left sitting on the floor, Gwaine listened to her laugh echo down the hallway, bewildered, as he felt his bruised nose.  
___________

Merlin found Arthur in the war room, pen in hand. “Why are you here? I came to wake you, and it doesn’t even look like your bed has been touched. Did you stay up all night?” 

“Unlike you, Merlin, I have responsibilities.” He said condescendingly. “We have to treat this like an attack on the castle, and start organizing a defence.”

“Treat what like an attack?”

“The boy’s disappearance. If we don’t find him, we have to plan for the worst case scenario.” Merlin couldn’t help being concerned for Arthur. He was becoming unglued right in front of his eyes. “A reward,” he rambled on, “we could offer a reward for him.”

“He’s not a criminal, Arthur.” Merlin tried to bring him back to reason. “If you put a price on his head, we’ll have every boy in Camelot brought to us in chains!”

“Then YOU come up with a better plan!” Arthur snapped at him, “I am obligated to keep the country safe. I cannot have my father getting up from his sickbed, only to find he no longer has a kingdom to rule.” The stress of brandishing his authority was evident. “I am accountable for everything that happens under my watch.” He pointed his finger accusingly at Merlin. “Sometimes I wish I was a simpleton like you. No worries, no responsibilities, you just do your job and go home, with no repercussions. You must sleep like a baby at night!”

Merlin struggled to hold his tongue, shaking Arthur’s scathing words off. “You have no idea.”

“No I don’t, Merlin,” Arthur went on, pointedly, “Because I have a country to run. Now if you could kindly leave me alone, I have real work to do!”

“Shall I bring your breakfast to you in here, then?” Merlin’s question was left unanswered. “Right, well, you probably wouldn’t eat it, anyways. I’ll check back in a couple of hours.” Merlin muttered rhetorically as he looked uneasily back at Arthur, pouring over his plans while he reluctantly closed the doors.  
________________

“I’m worried about Arthur.” Merlin confided to Gaius as they took their afternoon stroll, “I’m not sure he’s prepared for this. You should have seen him this morning.”

“Of course he’s not prepared, Merlin.” The old sage replied, “This came on all of a sudden. There should have been several more years of education before he took the throne, but he’ll adjust. Everyone does.”

They walked towards the stables, where Gwaine and Ragnelle were watching a new stallion resisting his training. 

Raag climbed through the fence. “No, don’t!” Gwaine called out. “It’s dangerous!”

Merlin ran to the barrier, Gaius following closely behind. “Get out of there, Raag!”

“Let go of him!” She urged, running over to the horse as it bucked and kicked at the men holding him. Ragnelle stood in the middle of the corral, and reached out with her hand. The stallion, loosing himself from the restraints with one mighty shake, galloped towards her. 

Gwaine climbed over the fence, ready to pull her away. “Wait!” Merlin stopped him. “Look!” He said. 

The stallion slowed down a few feet from her, and trotted up to Raag. “It’s alright, don’t be afraid,” she told the beast calmly. “These people are going to give you a nice home, and you’ll be someone’s best friend. He’ll love you, and take care of you...” she petted its’ nose gently. “Who knows, you might even become a Knight’s steed.” She laughed as she took hold of the rope hanging from his neck. “That would be the most honourable of all!” She led the animal to the side of the corral, and showed him the harness. “Here. Let me put this on.” The horse pulled his head back, unsure. “It’s alright, it’s not forever, it’s just so your new partner can ride you.” The stallion bowed his head, and she slipped the reigns on. “That’s what you’ll be, you know. Partners. Together always.”

As she walked the animal around the compound, taking to it, Merlin turned to Gaius. “How did she do that?” He whispered, “Was it the magic?”

“Do not mistake kindness and empathy for magic, my friend.” Gaius advised, somewhat truthfully. “She is an empath, nothing more. The animals feel her love, and she in turn.”

“I know how they feel.” Gwaine sighed. 

As Ragnelle returned the animal to its’ dumbfounded trainers, Merlin pulled her aside. “Perhaps you shouldn’t demonstrate your ‘gift’ in public,” he advised. 

“Oh, that? Animals have always been able to understand me.” Raag maintained, unconcerned, “I daresay more than people!”  
_______________________________________________

As the weeks went by, Gwaine and Ragnelle were inseparable. He would meet up with her every evening, and they would spend the entire night in his chambers. Often they would visit Gwen and play games at her kitchen table. “Hello, Merlin!” Ragnelle exclaimed one evening as they arrived at the house together.

Merlin glanced over at Gwen, “Raag, Gwen and I were talking,”

“Oh, I’m sorry...” she opened the door again, “We’ll get out of your way.”

“No!” Merlin started again, “We were discussing something that was bothering us... about you.”

“About me?”

“Yes,” Gwen started, “tell us again how you ended up with Holun?”

Raag sighed, as she began relaying the unhappy memory. “He picked me up in the forest after my parents sold me to him.” 

“Were you wearing a dress?”

“No...” She thought back, “My parents couldn’t afford to buy me dresses, so I always wore my brother’s old clothes when he grew out of them.”

“And Holun had no idea you were a girl?”

“I guess they never told him.” She shrugged. 

“Raag...” Merlin stated gently, “No parent, no matter how terrible they were, would sell a child to someone without telling them if it was a girl or a boy.”

“It’s the truth.” She insisted, afraid that they thought she was lying, “I swear!”

“It’s Holun’s truth.” Gwen maintained.

“What do you mean?” The truth began to dawn on her, “Do... you think he... lied?”

Merlin grimaced, “He never struck me as the most trustworthy person in the world.”

“All this time?”

Gwen nodded, sympathetically. “We’re pretty sure he took you from the woods.”

Raag was silent for a moment as she absorbed what they were telling her. “Do you think they’ve been looking for me?” She asked, quietly. “My... family?”

“I don’t know,” Gwen admitted, “I know that if it was me, I wouldn’t stop.”

Ragnelle’s legs went weak, and she needed to sit down. All sorts of questions and emotions raged through her, “I always thought they sold me because we were poor. I never thought...” she felt heartbroken and robbed. Gwaine put his hand on her shoulder. Raag immediately adhered herself to him, holding him as if she would never let go. She cried for the lost years, her lost family, her lost childhood, her lost freedom. They sat down on the hearth, his arms still enfolding her, as she tried to remember her childhood. “Toi San,” she said as if suddenly inspired.

“What does that mean?” Merlin inquired. 

“I used to sit beside my grandmother on the hearth, or at least I think it was my grandmother... she liked to sit beside the fireplace because she was always cold, and she would tell me that if anyone ever asked, I was Toi San.” She shook her head, “I’m not sure what that means, whether it’s people, or a town, or a country. I just know that it’s who I am.” She looked vaguely out the window. “I have to find them, Gwaine.”

“I’ll go with you.” Gwaine offered. “I’m always up for a quest!”

“What if we’re wrong?” Gwen reasoned with her. “What if they did really sell you to Holun? That’s a long way to go to find disappointment.”

“What if you’re right?” She stated, resolutely. “I have to know the truth.”

There was a knock on the door, interrupting the conversation. “Open up.”

Gwen quickly handed Raag the mending, and opened the door. “What do you want?” She asked, angrily. 

“We’ve posted a notice in the square to inform everyone that there is a reward for the boy, Raag.” The soldier told them. “Now, if you will get out of our way, we need to conduct a search.”

A shock of blonde hair appeared at the door. “Your Majesty!” The guard was caught off-guard. 

“I’ll take over from here.” Arthur directed. 

The guard bowed and left the room. “Arthur!” Gwen scolded, “Another search? How can you sanction such a thing? Haven’t you put your people through enough?”

“We have to find the boy, Gwen.” Was the answer, “We have less than two weeks before Holun returns. I will conduct a search every day if I have to.”

“Certainly he’s long gone by now,” Merlin ascertained.

“The reward should draw him out. It’s been relayed across every corner of the kingdom.” Arthur persisted. “He won’t be able to find help anywhere in Camelot, no matter how remote.”

“The reward?” Gwaine protested from the hearth, still holding a distraught Ragnelle closely, “Every orphan in the land will be brought to you in shackles!”

“That’s what I said!” Merlin agreed, triumphantly. 

“No.” A small voice said. The thought of a child in chains brought out a strength in her she didn’t know she had. Ragnelle knew she couldn’t let this happen because of her. Bravely, she pulled herself away from Gwaine’s protection and stood in front of Arthur. 

Angry at being interrupted by this stranger, he yelled at her. “What?”

Ignoring Gwaine’s protests, she continued. “I’m the one you’re looking for.”

Arthur finally deigned to look at her, and into her almond eyes. “But... You’re a Girl!” Realizing she spoke the truth, his demeanour instantly changed. The anger melted away, and he began to feel sick inside. 

Gwaine rose up from the hearth, putting a protective arm around her. Raag’s legs felt like they were going to give out on her right there, and she appreciated his support as they waited for Arthur to say something.... anything. 

“You... you all knew?” He asked as he looked at his best friends surrounding him. Now it was Arthur’s legs that turned to jelly as he sat down on the kitchen bench. 

Merlin nodded. “We’ve been hiding her ever since I found out.”

“And you kept it from me? You knew what I was going through!” 

“You can’t blame Merlin,” Gwen piped up, “I helped her with the dress, and arranged for her to work at the castle.”

“Right under my nose?” Arthur was astonished at their duplicity, but there were more important things for him to ponder. Despite the value of the black powder, this girl changed everything. Suddenly, his choice was clear. He had no choice. “I can’t hand a girl over to those Barbarians.” Finally, he understood. 

Gwaine smiled his roguish smile. “Then we have to find something else more valuable to give them, something that will make them forget all about the boy.”

“Yes, but what?” Arthur wondered.


	6. ESCAPE

Ragnelle giggled and squirmed away. “Hold still!” Gwen demanded impatiently as she wrapped the measuring tape around her chest.

“But it tickles!”

“If you don’t hold still, I’ll tie you up with the tape.”

“But then how will you be able to measure me?”

Gwaine guffawed from the kitchen bench where he was watching the women, helping himself to a doomed basket of fruit within hand’s reach. 

“I can’t believe you got Gwaine to go shopping with you!” Gwen exclaimed as she measured Raag’s neck.

Raag giggled again and tried to pull back, but Gwen held the tape too tightly. “Gak!Actually, Gwaine just wanted to buy the first thing he saw. If he had his way, you’d be making my riding clothes out of pink muslin!” She grasped her throat as Gwen moved on to her waist. “That would have made us quite the mark for robbers, don’t you agree?”

“I was just trying to pick somthig that enhanced your blurfy.” Gwaine insisted as he bit into an unlucky apple. 

“I thought you said my... Beauty... doesn’t need enhancing.” 

Gwen glanced up from her measuring. “You can understand him when he’s eating?”

“He’s always eating.” Raag laughed, “I had to learn quickly.”

“Still,” Gwen smirked, “I would have paid to see Gwaine shopping!”

“It wasn’t as fun as you would think.” Raag shot her a derisive look. “He really wasn’t much help.”

“I paid for eberthig...”

Without missing a beat, Ragnelle corrected herself. “He was the perfect shopping partner.”

Gwen removed the measuring tape. “There! Your new travel ensemble will be ready in a week.”

“Wonderful!” Gwaine arose from the bench and gave Raag a peck on the cheek. “We’ll be well on our way before Holun arrives!”

“Gwen...” Ragnelle began.

“Don’t worry,” Gwen whispered, “I’m making trousers to go underneath.”

“Thank you.” Raag hugged her as she went through the door Gwaine held open for her gallantly. “You know me so well!”

As they strolled through the village, Gwaine stopped at a vendor, gave him some money, and handed the purchase over to Ragnelle. The bag was warm, and she stooped to inhale the delicious aroma coming from within. “This is it!” She exclaimed, “This is what I smelled when I first went to the Harvest Festival!” it seemed like a lifetime ago. The juxtaposition between the fear and horror she experienced that day and the joy and happiness of today were leagues apart. She felt at home in Camelot. Albeit when Arthur found out who she was he didn’t exactly welcome her with open arms, but neither did he bear malice toward her, a consideration she was forever grateful for. 

“Chestnuts...” Gwaine’s absent-minded reply caught Raag’s attention, and she looked up at him. Following his gaze she realized with a twinge of sorrow, what he was staring at. Several soldiers were fortifying the castle walls with sandbags, but as well as adding security, it was also a training exercise. Although he would have not have been a part of that, mainly because he was a Knight and not a mere soldier, he recognized that they were preparing for war. A war that he would not be a party to, because he was about to accompany Raag on her journey back to Mongol to find her family. He finally turned, and reached into the bag. “You peel them, like this.” Even though he said it with a smile, the smile that would normally light up her soul, she could see the sadness peeking through the corner of his eyes. 

“You don’t have to come along with me, you know.” She told him. 

“Of course I do.” He remarked, “what kind of man would I be if I let you go on this mission by yourself?” Realizing this was perhaps not the best way to explain his motivation he added, “It is an adventure, after all, and I’m getting tired of hanging around Camelot. Come, we need to gather equipment for our journey.”

His false bravado didn’t fool her for a moment, but she wisely decided to give the conversation a rest. 

____________________________________  
“How much could a slave possibly be worth?” Sir Percival wondered aloud as all the Knights convened at the Round Table. “Certainly we have enough gold or jewels to assuage him.”

“It’s not the monetary worth,” Arthur countered, abruptly, “the man is a MERCHANT. He has enough money for a hundred slaves. This is a matter of principal for him.”

“I agree.” Sir Gwaine concurred. “We need to find something that is more valuable to him than wealth. Blackmail, perhaps?” he suggested, “We suspect that the child was not bought, but actually taken from her home.”

“Be that as it may,” Arthur replied, “we have no proof on the matter, and the girl was too young to remember.”

“But could we not throw him in the dungeon until we sort this out?” Sir Leon inquired. “I heard that Sir Gwaine is accompanying the girl to her homeland soon in search of her family. Surely the truth will come out then?”

“I cannot with good conscience clap Holun in chains without evidence.” The Prince responded, “We’ve done that in the past with disastrous consequences.” There was an uncomfortable silence as Arthur glanced over at Sir Elyan. “Sorry.” He told him, as he remembered that Elyan’s own father had been executed in a similar fashion. 

“No need, Sire.” Sir Elyan graciously acknowledged.

Arthur cleared his throat and ended the meeting. “If there are no more suggestions, let us convene again in two days, and hopefully we will find a solution at that time.”

“You are truly going to the Far East with Ragnelle?” Sir Percival asked Gwaine as they exited the War Room. 

“It will be quite a grand adventure, I’m sure.” Gwaine replied, jovially. 

“Are you not afraid of missing out on all the excitement here?” Percival inquired. 

“No doubt you’ll manage quite well without me.” Gwaine became distracted when he spied Raag coming out of the dressing room with Gwen. Raag gasped, and like a startled rabbit, ran as fast as she could down the corridor. “Excuse me...” Gwaine barely muttered as he chased after her, stopping only briefly to pick up the towels he knocked out of Gwen’s hands, and tossing them back into her arms. Raag had quite a head start, but even as he ran down the hallway, Gwaine had no worry that he would catch her, as he knew she would be heading to the same place as always. Past the Grand Ballroom, down the stairs, and across to the Knight’s Quarters. He saw her disappear into the room, catching up to her just as she jumped onto his bed giggling, and he leapt on top, giving her a hearty embrace. 

“No time,” she protested breathlessly as he pulled at the strings holding her blouse in place. “No time. You promised to teach me how to ride a horse.”

“We have plenty of time.” Gwaine assured her. She laughed out loud as he nuzzled her neck.

___________________________________  
“Alright now, use your legs to coax her to go faster.” Gwaine instructed as they trotted through the field. She was riding his horse, Fortunata, whilst he had mounted the more spirited Gringolet, the new steed that she had bonded with in the corral. “Try using one hand when you steer her.” He suggested. “Let’s go into the wooded trail, there.” Pointing over to the woods, he urged his horse into a gallop, as she followed him. 

Ragnelle caught her breath for the excitement of going so fast thrilled her to the core. Her cheeks were rosy from the wind and she had a wide smile on her face. She had found her forte. 

Gwaine admired her fearlessness. He could hardly believe that she was able to master a gallop in only two days. Racing Gringolet through an arch of leaves, he inadvertently startled a kaleidoscope of butterflies, who then surrounded Fortunata. The horse raised up on her haunches, and Raag slid off the saddle, landing with a thump onto the ground. As Fortunata galloped past Gwaine, riderless, he whistled for her, and turned back, alarmed. 

Dismounting, he saw Raag lying on the ground and ran to her, but his fears were quickly eased when she suddenly sat up, laughing. “Let’s do that again!”

Gwaine breathed a sigh of relief as he helped her up. “Are you alright? Did you hurt anything?” 

“Who knew I would be done in by butterflies!” She exclaimed as she began to chase them. They made their way through the arch, where Fortunata stood, waiting. 

He gallantly helped her back onto the horse. “The fall aside, you are catching on splendidly. We should be ready to leave by week’s end.”

“Actually, I need to wait until after Holun arrives.” 

Remounting Gringolet, he questioned her decision. “Why?”

“I need his maps.” She explained. “There are no maps of Mongol in Camelot.”

“His maps?” Gwaine was never so prepared, always preferring to travel wherever the wind took him. 

“Just because I cannot read, does not mean I do not know how to use a map.” She commented, cavalierly, “They are just pictures, after all, and I have watched Holun navigate them all my life.”

He didn’t like the idea, but appreciated the fact that they could end up going in circles without a map. “Alright,” He conceded, “but we leave at dawn, right after he arrives.”

Ragnelle nodded in agreement as she urged Fortunata into a gallop, with Gwaine following close behind, at the ready in case she fell again. 

___________________________________  
A few days later, Merlin served the Knights their lunch in the war room. “Arthur, I need to ask a favour of you.” He requested as he placed the platter down. 

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “A favour?” He snorted contemptuously as he picked up a cluster of grapes. “Now why should I grant a favour to you?”

“It’s not really for me, it’s for Ragnelle, and it may be the solution to your problem.”

Arthur paused for a moment, contemplating the request. “Alright, what is it you want of me, Merlin?”

“I just need you to assure that Holun won’t go searching for her until the dawn after he arrives tomorrow. I have a plan.” He disclosed.

“And are you not going to let me in on this ‘plan’?”

“Well, actually, there are a couple of plans stirring around in my head, and I’m not sure which one I am going to pick. Unless you have a plan of your own?” He replied, cheekily. 

Arthur was caught. After days of brainstorming, they hadn’t come up with any feasible ideas, and Merlin, who had been serving them all the while, knew that.

“You will have no doubt when my plan takes effect.” Merlin urged, “I promise you will know exactly when to propose an offer for the black powder.”

Intrigued, Arthur agreed, and as Merlin left, he pulled Sir Leon aside. “Spread the word. Make no move unless I order it myself.” He commanded. 

Sir Leon bowed and joined the other Knights at the table. 

___________________________________

“Ooooh!” Wide-eyed, Ragnelle admired the ball of flame floating in front of Merlin as he worked his spell in Gaius’ chambers. “It’s so beautiful, but will it not be dangerous to be so close to Holun’s black powder?”

“This is the ‘Perpetual Fire’.” Merlin explained, concentrating on controlling the fire’s direction. “It cannot be extinguished, nor does it actually burn.” He lowered the flame onto the table. “Touch it.”

Raag tentatively passed her hand over the ball. “It feels like air!” She remarked with wonder, “There is no heat from it whatsoever!”

“Artos Ennius Toni!” He commanded, as the ball flew across the room and engulfed the door, just as Gaius walked through. 

“Are you playing with magic again, Merlin?” He asked rhetorically. “What have I told you about that?”

“Exteribus!” Merlin’s eyes glowed as he quickly extinguished the flame. “I wasn’t playing with it, per se, I was just practicing. We need it to help Raag escape tomorrow.”

“As dramatic as they are,” Gaius warned, “try to recite your incantations quieter, you need not shout them out for them to work!”

“I know.” Merlin nodded, “I will.” Gaius glared at him sceptically. “I promise!” As Gaius pulled back, Merlin turned to Raag, “Which caravan contains the black powder?”

“The black one.” She confirmed. “It’s always in the black one.” 

“Good.” He grabbed a torch, “I just have one more thing to do.” He said as he left the room. 

“Gaius, do you have a sleeping tonic?” She asked him, “Gwaine keeps waking up in the middle of the night, and he can’t get back to sleep again.”

“Yes,” he turned to his shelf of potions, “this one will keep him asleep, and he will wake up refreshed in the morning.”

“Thank you, Gaius.” She said, as she took the elixir, putting it into her pocket. “Oh, I forgot to ask Merlin something!” Looking out the window, she could see him making his way through the town. “Please excuse me, Gaius!”

Gaius nodded as she rushed out the door.  
______________________________________

Merlin ran to the clearing on the mountain, torch in hand. “O Drakon, todis errinabu d’atali.” He commanded. 

The sky stirred, and a great wind blew down on Merlin as Kilgharrah perched himself on the edge of the cliff. “I am not at your beck and call, Merlin.” The dragon insisted, “What is it you need from me this time?”

“You are at my beck and call,” Merlin reminded him, “I am the Dragon Lord.”

“So you are.” Kilgharrah conceded, “but just because you lower your voice down an octave to summon me, does not mean I am obliged to appease your whims.” The dragon smirked, if indeed a dragon truly could smirk, “Tell me what you want, and I will contemplate my assistance in the matter.” he allowed, on the pretence that he had a choice.

“I need for you to create a distraction, so that a girl can escape from her Master.“

“Why do you not create the distraction yourself?”

“Because it cannot look like anyone in Camelot is involved.” Merlin admitted. 

“I am not to be called to provide a ‘distraction’.” He growled, miffed that he had been summoned for such a trivial reason. There was a gasp behind them. Startled, the dragon roared, sending a flame into the air. “Who’s there?” He demanded.

“A Dragon!” Raag stepped forward.

“What are you doing here?” Merlin cried out, expecting Kilgharrah to alight at any moment.

“I saw you leaving the castle and followed you...”

“You are She!” The dragon hissed.

Merlin was caught unawares. “How do you know her?”

“I know a great many things.” The dragon bowed his head. “The Lady Ragnelle.”

Raag laughed. “I am not a Lady, but yes, I am Ragnelle,” she stepped closer, unafraid. “How did you know?”

“Gwaine’s true love.” He observed her with interest. “You are mentioned in the history books yet to be written.” 

“I don’t understand.” She reached out her hand.

Merlin grunted. “He alway talks in riddles.” 

“Oooh,” Raag exclaimed as she petted him. “you are warmer than I expected.” 

“I am made from fire and magic,” The dragon explained, “and born from the ashes.” Raag stroked the giant creature’s chin. “I will do as you ask.” He told Merlin as he gurgled with contentment.

Merlin regarded the Dragon and the Empath with wonderment.  
__________________________________

Holun arrived on the second full moon, as expected, to all the pomp and circumstance he had enjoyed during his previous visit. Arthur greeted him, and suggested they dine together so that he could enjoy a good night’s sleep before they started a search for the boy. Holun agreed, and as he mounted the castle stairs on the way to the banquet room, Arthur held back a moment. “This had better be worth it.” He muttered under his breath disdainfully to Merlin.

“Think of this as a wonderful exercise in diplomacy.” Merlin quipped back. 

Gwaine did not feel like attending the banquet for Holun, and under the circumstances, Arthur agreed with him. Instead he and Ragnelle enjoyed a lovely private dinner in his chambers, whereupon afterwards they toasted to their new adventure, and retired to his bed. 

Raag arose in the middle of the night and nudged Gwaine. Normally he would have woken up with a start, but this time he merely groaned and rolled over. She quietly donned her new travelling clothes. Gwen had folded the skirt so that the trousers would not show until she climbed atop a horse. Before she put on the black cape, she gazed down at her sleeping love. ‘Wake up.’ Ragnelle told Gwaine in her mind. ‘Wake up and stop me. Wake up and forbid me to leave, and I will stay forever in your arms. Damn Holun, Damn finding my family and damn Camelot. Tell me I have no choice, that I can never leave your side, and I will obey you, happily.’ Tears streamed down her cheeks. ‘Ask me never to leave, and I’ll say.... I can’t.’ Conflicted, she lay back down beside him, and rested her head on his shoulder. ‘Just one more moment on your arms.’ Gwaine stirred and instinctively hugged her to him as he slept. ‘One moment to last forever...’ She cherished his last embrace. So warm, so safe. She was tempted to go back to sleep, to forget her troubles, to forget what she had to do... with a stuttered breath she opened her eyes. “I will love you forevermore,” she whispered, “but you have your destiny and I have mine.” And with one final, everlasting kiss, she left his bed.

As she ran down the castle stairs, she saw Kilgharrah fly across the sky. He circled the citadel breathing flames onto several trees on the hill and through to a nearby field. As the townspeople screamed and ran to take cover, Raag took the advantage by creeping into the red caravan and obtaining the precious maps. 

Merlin was waiting outside. “Are you ready?” He asked. Ragnelle nodded. “I’ll meet you at the stables. Go. Now!” He turned to face Holun’s wagons. “Artos Ennius Toni!” He chanted. 

Raag ran through the streets as the black caravan burst into flames. The guard that Holun had stationed at the stables put down his weapon and ran to help extinguish the sudden fire. Picking up his crossbow, Ragnelle snuck into the building. “Altani!” She called out. 

Altani whinnied, and Raag could see the fear in the mare’s eyes. “Shh, shh,” She reached into the stall and calmed the frightened beast. She unhooked the bridle, fastening it onto the horse. As she secured her to the stall, Merlin rushed in. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Merlin asked.

“Tell Sir Gwaine I love him.” Was the answer, as she lashed another bridle onto Fortunata. 

“I think he already knows.”

“Tell him anyways.” 

Merlin thrust a small bag of coins into her hand. “Here. It isn’t much...”

Ragnelle wanted to say no, but thanked him instead. “This will help immensely until I can find work.” She told him, gratefully.

“What will you do?”

“With your ‘gift’, I should be able to be hired as an interpreter.” She replied. “Don’t worry, I’ll be discreet.” Raag hugged Merlin fondly. “Thank you for helping me.”

Merlin held her tightly, relishing what could possibly be their last embrace. “It’s been a pleasure knowing you, Lady Ragnelle.” Letting go, he took a deep breath. “Arouunis tel’kne vitu.” The enclosure snapped in two. Merlin chased all the horses out of the building, following them down the road. Only Altani was left, still tied to the post. 

As Raag quickly fastened the saddle, she heard a low growl behind her. She whirled around, sharply. “Ken...” She only had enough time to say half his name before the dog attacked. Recognizing her at the last minute, he landed on Raag, smothering her with kisses. “...do!” Laughing, they rolled around on the ground, celebrating their happy reunion. 

Merlin stopped at the crest of the hill, and took a moment to watch Holun’s men drawing around trying to extinguish the perpetual fire with a grin. Then he raced back to the castle and joined Arthur. 

Raag held the dog’s face and looked into his eyes. “I’m going on a wonderful adventure, Kendo!” She told him, “You can come along if you want, it’s your choice.” She put the crossbow into the holder on the saddle and mounted Altani. “Come with me, or stay with Holun.”

She halted right outside the door, waiting for Kendo’s decision. The dog wavered for a moment, looking over at the direction of the burning wagon, and then back at Raag. 

Ragnelle spurred the horse on with a laugh as Kendo darted past them and down the road. Her dress puffed up and blew behind her in the wind. 

“The wagons! The black powder will explode!” Cried an agitated Holun, gauging the chaos from the castle walkway. 

“It’s only your wagon that is on fire, Holun,” Arthur reasoned, “will you now sell us the back powder if we help you extinguish it?” 

“Yes, yes, as much as you want!”

Arthur called down to his Knights, who were standing around waiting for his orders. “Make a bucket brigade.” 

The men did as they were told, and alongside Holun’s soldiers, they worked at putting out the flames. 

Merlin eyes glowed behind them. “Exteribus!” He whispered, and the flames died down, disappearing altogether within moments. 

With all the commotion, no one noticed a dog, a horse and a girl escaping into the night in search of their family.


	7. EPILOGUE

The following morn, Arthur stood on the walkway with a smile. One by one Camelot’s horses had come back to the castle. Arthur had made sure they secured the purchase of the black powder before he allowed his people to find Holun’s horses. All except one. Arthur couldn’t help but laugh as Holun sat, miserably on the front of the red caravan as they made their way out of the citadel. 

Merlin sat in silence with Gwaine. He had woken up that morning to find Merlin sitting at the table instead of Ragnelle. When Merlin relayed what had happened, he became angry at himself for sleeping through everything. It made no difference to him that he was drugged. Regardless, he should have been present. 

“She did it for you, you know.” Merlin explained. “She knew you would resent her eventually for taking you away from Camelot.” 

“I couldn’t!” He protested, “I wouldn’t!” But deep inside, he knew she was right. They made their way outside, and there they sat. Waiting. The hills surrounding them had echoed with Gwaine’s whistle, and eventually two sets of hooves clapped towards them. Ragnelle had attached Fortunata’s reigns to Gringolet because she knew the younger horse would have not returned with the others. Gwaine choked up when he saw her final act of consideration. “I need to be alone.” He told Merlin sadly, as he walked the horses into the stable, heartbroken. 

Merlin went back and took his place beside Prince Arthur. “How is Sir Gwaine doing?” The young monarch inquired. 

“As well as can be expected.” Merlin said, wistfully. “Perhaps you should hold a tournament soon.”

“Perhaps I should.” Arthur agreed. “You know, it’s quite a coincidence that the dragon showed up when he did.”

“Isn’t it? Perchance he was on his way somewhere.” Merlin innocently remarked, “A lucky coincidence I call it, I had only planned to let the horses out as a distraction, which may or may not have been enough.” 

“If you call losing a quarter of the west crop-field to fire lucky, then I suppose so.” The Prince mused.

“It could have been worse.” Merlin looked up at him optimistically.

“True.” Arthur agreed. “Well, it all worked out in the end.” He pushed himself away from the wall. “Merlin...” he began.

”Yes, Arthur?” 

“I feel like having a well-deserved rest, now.” He threw over his shoulder as he went inside. “Don’t you have a stable fence to repair?” Arthur did nothing to disguise his chuckle as Merlin breathed a heavy sigh. 

Ragnelle stopped at a lake. Studying the map, she determined that they had to go past the hill shaped like a lion, and on the other side, their passage to Europia awaited them. While she rested, she felt the bittersweetness of the moment as she watched Kendo and Altani taking a long drink of the cool water. She longed for Gwaine, but knew that although he would be happy for the first few months, his duty was ultimately with Camelot. With a sigh she recalled their last night together and cried for things past and things yet to be. Calling out to Kendo, she steeled herself for the long journey, determined to continue on to find her family. Not only for herself, Ragnelle reasoned, but because deep inside her belly, she held a secret. A secret that would reveal himself in the coming eight months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s done!
> 
> Thank you for following my story, and for all your kudos and kind reviews!


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